


rickety bones, rickety hands

by picht



Series: dont tell my mom (verse) [1]
Category: Polygon/McElroy Vlogs & Podcasts RPF
Genre: Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Coming In Pants, Confessions, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Feelings, First Time, Grinding, Humiliation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Humiliation, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:09:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/picht/pseuds/picht
Summary: Brian David Gilbert is hiding in his hall bathroom...Brian can typically handle public embarrassment of any sort, is the thing. He’s always been good at rolling with the punches, always been able to turn it into a bit. It takes a lot to trip him up, but somehow, Pat Gill is a master at doing so. Brian doesn’t know if it’s because Pat is usually so kind and such a good friend that when he occasionally says something so hair-raising or critical to Brian it’s just really fucking unexpected, or something else. He’s sure it doesn’t help that he does have such a massive fucking thing for the older man. He’s sure it doesn’t help that in any moment of free time he’s daydreaming about Pat buying him dinner, taking him on a real date, then taking him back to his place and wrecking him so thoroughly and so sweetly that all Brian would be able to do by the end of the night is lay there and cry. He’s sure it doesn’t help that he’s always been a bit of a freak and always had a bit of a thing for boys who look like they would love to rough him up, and when Pat says something that trips Brian up, the hot flush of feeling that overwhelms him isn’t just from the shame of being embarrassed.





	rickety bones, rickety hands

**Author's Note:**

> hi so i gotta make this quick its 1:30 in the morning, i'm at my roommate's VERY catholic grandparents house cuz his brother got married this weekend and it's been HELL cuz my roommate and i? both gay and trans/nb. his grandparents? homophobic and transphobic. we've been here a few days it's sucked ASS cuz basically his whole family misgenders/deadnames him constantly and i have to do the same for his safety, anyway last night i slept in his older brother's childhood bedroom and had a very uhhh. specific dream about pat gill. and this is based on that dream. so i wrote this during the wedding slkdgndlk and tonight we got drunk and now i'm drunk posting this to ao3! i did a quick read through but there may still be some mistakes, i will look again in a few days once i have internet access again (we r leaving tomorrow, and it's a long drive back home). if you like this lmk! there might just be more. writing v spicy porn in ur roommate's homophobic catholic grandparents' house is direct FUCKING action

Brian David Gilbert is hiding in his hall bathroom.

Looking at himself in the mirror, his eyes are a little red, but he’s definitely not crying, just… _anxious_ , is all. He’s been in the bathroom for about twenty minutes; long enough that Laura had tried to check on him, then Jonah had, then Simone and Jenna together, then Laura again. He knows he’s being a real party pooper--this party is being held at his apartment, and his work friends make a significant portion of the guests, but he’s not ready to leave the bathroom yet (not that he’s sure he’ll be ready to leave the bathroom ever again. He may just have to die in here).

Laura is knocking at the door again, speech a little slurred because they’d been going pretty hogwild even before other people had begun arriving. It’s how Brian had gotten in this mess in the first place, after all. “Bri, I’m so sorry. I’m so stupid, and drunk. I just didn’t think,” which, Brian knows all of that. He can’t even really find it in himself to blame her. Doesn’t really even remember what exactly she’d said; just that it had been directed at Pat, and very obviously implied exactly how into Pat he was. Mostly all he can think about is the way he’d hissed her name, “ _Laura,_ ” and Pat had just laughed the laugh he typically reserves for making fun of assholes, looked Brian up and down with clear amusement and what could easily be read as pity in his eyes, and said, in front of everyone, “It’s cool, kid. I know. You’re not exactly subtle, but don’t worry about it. I get how it is when you’re young and in a new environment,” which had been--

Brian can typically handle public embarrassment of any sort, is the thing. He’s always been good at rolling with the punches, always been able to turn it into a bit. It takes a lot to trip him up, but somehow, Pat Gill is a master at doing so. Brian doesn’t know if it’s because Pat is usually so kind and such a good friend that when he occasionally says something so hair-raising or critical to Brian it’s just really fucking unexpected, or something else. He’s sure it doesn’t help that he does have such a massive fucking thing for the older man. He’s sure it doesn’t help that in any moment of free time he’s daydreaming about Pat buying him dinner, taking him on a real date, then taking him back to his place and wrecking him so thoroughly and so sweetly that all Brian would be able to do by the end of the night is lay there and cry. He’s sure it doesn’t help that he’s always been a bit of a freak and always had a bit of a thing for boys who look like they would love to rough him up, and when Pat says something that trips Brian up, the hot flush of feeling that overwhelms him isn’t just from the shame of being embarrassed. And he’s absolutely sure that every time Pat does it, he looks like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Pat’s still here,” Laura says, breaking him out of his reverie, because she’s still leaning against the door in the hallway. It’s not locked, but Brian supposes she’s simply assumed it is, or else she would have barged in by now.

“Okay, um… Why would I--want to know that?” He asks, voice a little hoarse, trying to ignore the way his heartbeat picks up with anxiety at the sentence.

“Well, I just figured, you know--he’s not, like, upset or anything. And everyone else seems to have totally forgotten it happened. So, you know, you could come out, at least to have a few more drinks and socialize for a few minutes before escaping to your room.” Brian tries to make more excuses for not showing his face in the living room without having to tell his sister that, sure, he’s embarrassed, but the main reason he hasn’t come out yet is because the way Pat had looked at him like he’d known that Brian would drop to his knees for him at a moment’s notice, had spoken to him condescendingly like he was some kid with a school crush but had held Brian’s eyes with a look that suggested he knew exactly what he was doing and how it was affecting Brian, had made Brian instantly hard. Not only this, but he knows Pat had noticed _that_ , too, and all he’d done was look at him pointedly, one corner of his mouth quirked up, an expression like Brian was some sad, pitiful kid with some embarrassing predicament Pat couldn’t help but laugh at. Brian doesn’t know how to tell Laura all of this, and how to also explain that in the entire nearly half hour that he’s been holed up in the bathroom, his stupid fucking erection hasn’t even begun to flag.

It doesn’t seem like explaining this is going to be necessary, though, when he suddenly hears from outside the door, a familiar, scratchy voice say, “Could I talk to him?” It’s Pat, of fucking course, and of fucking _course_ Laura agrees and walks away, and _of fucking course_ Pat somehow thinks to try to just open the door, which gives immediately because for some reason Brian had thought no one would actually think to just try the handle. The door creaks as Pat steps into the bathroom. Brian desperately tries to find something on the counter that he can quickly use to kill himself.

“Hey,” Pat says, in that quiet way of his. His boots are loud against the tile. Brian, who’s been staring at himself in the mirror this entire time, glances over as briefly as possible. Pat still seems to notice.

“Um, hi,” Brian responds. He jumps, just a bit, when Pat gently wraps a long, bony hand around his shoulder. He hadn’t been planning on facing the other man if he could avoid it, but he doesn’t want to seem weird or suspicious for resisting when Pat guides him to turn and face him.

“I wanted to, uh, apologize. For earlier. It probably wasn’t the right time or place or anything, and I definitely didn’t mean to upset you. I feel like you probably know by now I can be an asshole sometimes, but that’s still not an excuse for me to…” Pat has been trailing his eyes all over Brian since starting to speak, and Brian knows the exact moment that Pat’s eyes reach just below his waist and realize that he’s still fucking hard, and the cause of the arousal can be nothing else but the humiliation Pat had subjected him to earlier. “Oh,” Pat finishes the statement with. There’s a look in his eyes of pure understanding. Brian considers jumping out the window.

He doesn’t, though. Instead, all he can do is watch wide eyed as Pat walks slowly towards him before turning in order to crowd him against the sink. He rests his hands against the counter, leaning into Brian’s space and blocking him in on both sides. He has that look on his face again, like the situation is unendingly amusing to him.

“You really can’t help yourself, huh?” A hot flush of shame overtakes Brian. He stares resolutely at a speck on the wall tile behind Pat’s back.

“I--” he starts, but Pat just rolls his eyes and shakes his head in a way that Brian knows means he needs to shut the hell up.

“Don’t make excuses, Bri. Don’t try to lie your way out of this. You’re just really that desperate. Do you get on your knees for _anyone_ who’s mean to you? I bet you aren’t even _ashamed_.”

“No, it’s--it’s just you. Pat, it’s just _you_.” Brian can feel his lower lip trembling a bit, knows that if Pat takes this as far as he seems to be it’s only a matter of time before he starts genuinely crying. His body’s just like that; doesn’t mean he’s not seriously into the proceedings. He hopes the inevitable waterworks don’t scare the older man off.

“Yeah?” Pat laughs, light and airy. He shifts a thigh between Brian’s legs, but doesn’t make much of an effort to press against him too hard or anything. Brian, impatient and desperate, doesn’t even try to hide the noise he makes as he hitches his crotch up against Pat’s jean covered thigh, a soft little gasp while he can’t help but let his eyes roll back at the relief he’s been needing for god knows how long now. Pat laughs at him again, this time sounding much more mocking than before. Brian’s pants are so tight that they hurt but he can’t keep himself from rocking up into Pat’s thigh again.

“God,” Pat says, just on the edge of unkindly. “You really are like a fucking kid, huh? Humping anything in reach, can’t even help yourself. No fucking self control. I try to come in here so we can talk this out like adults and catch you white knuckled against the counter like a Catholic kid experiencing his first boner. Pretty pathetic that you can get so worked up over being _rejected_ ,” Brian can feel himself panting as the shame washes over him, cock twitching so hard that he’s certain Pat can feel it, even through the layers of clothing beneath them. “Pretty cute like this, though. Desperate, about to start fucking crying. Might rescind that rejection, at least till I get my cock in you.” Tears are prickling at the corners of his eyes. When his mouth drops open in a low moan as he grinds against Pat’s thigh, Pat shoves two fingers into it, holding his chin and pressing down against his tongue. Unable to swallow like this, he can feel drool smearing across his cheeks, dribbling down his face. This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him.

Pat presses his fingers down hard enough that Brian gags, just a bit, then relocates his hand to Brian’s neck so he can press his thumb against Brian’s adam’s apple, not hard enough to fully restrict his breathing, but enough to make him wheeze a bit. “You got any shame in there, kid? Or do you just not give a fuck, like a horny fucking bitch, do whatever it takes to get off. You ever go home after we stream and fuck yourself? Pretend it’s me?” Brian moans, nodding his head as much as possible with the limited movement he has due to Pat’s hand holding his neck. “You’re not slick, Bri. I’ve known you’ve been into me for months, practically since your first day at the office. If I’d known you would apparently let me do any fucking thing I wanted, I would have pushed you under my desk and fucked your throat within that first fucking week you joined the team.” Pat’s fingers are no longer in Brian’s mouth, but he can still feel himself drooling. God, his face must be a fucking wreck, tear stained and snotty and covered in drool. Pat looks at him with barely concealed disdain. “I’m getting a little tired of this, Brian. If you want to come, you better get to work. Bring yourself off on my thigh, come in your fucking pants like the dumb, horny teenager you apparently are. Do it before I get bored and leave you here.”

Pat doesn’t say anything else of real substance, just wraps his fingers roughly in Brian’s hair and watches with hungry eyes flitting back and forth between Brian’s face and the bulge in Brian’s pants as he begins really rubbing himself against Pat’s leg now that he’s being faced with being left if he’s not fast enough. Brian’s not sure if Pat was being serious about getting bored and leaving him in the bathroom in such a state. He hopes he was.

Brian knows he’s being loud, knows he’s crying and hiccuping and whining high in his throat and that it’s extremely likely anyone in the apartment can hear him. When Pat tells him as much, says, “You sound like such a fucking slut, they can definitely all hear you, you know. Probably think I’m fucking you into the wall. It’d be real embarrassing if they knew you were this worked up over a couple of mean statements,” he feels himself buck up against Pat’s thigh several times in quick succession, whimpering, and then coming his fucking brains out.

He has barely any time to catch his breath before Pat is stepping just a bit out of his space, pushing him so that he’s leaning back, rucking his shirt up, and jerking off with the clear intent of coming on his chest. Brian’s not even sure when Pat got his cock out.

“Thought you, uh--” Brian sniffs. Tries to steady his breathing a bit more. “Thought you were gonna get your cock in me.” The way Pat laughs, not with contempt but with mirth, makes him feel warm inside.

“Still gonna, baby. Just not till I can get you somewhere alone so I can really make you scream.” Brian feels his cock give a little twitch at the words. He hopes it happens soon.

“Want you inside me, Pat. Wanted it for months. Want you to, to break me open and make me fuckin’ feel it.” Brian lifts his shirt up higher for Pat, pinches at his nipples till they’re red and angry, watches in awe as Pat fucks into his own fist, the head of his cock dark and glistening with precome. “Would have gotten under your desk, let you fuck my throat. Even that first day, you could have taken me somewhere quiet, forced me down on my knees. I would have done anything you asked, Pat. Still would.” After that, it doesn’t take long for Pat to come.

With a grunt, he shoots onto Brian’s chest, working himself through it till his cock is spent and Brian is sticky and covered in his come. He then seems to come up short, like he hadn’t planned this far ahead, but it doesn’t take much more than a few seconds of thought before Brian begins running his fingers through Pat’s come and bringing them up to his mouth. Pat watches in awe as he sucks them clean, and then starts laughing, again with mirth, like he can’t fucking believe what just happened but he’s so glad it did.

Brian smiles up at him a bit shyly, blushing like he hadn’t just been eating Pat’s come off of his own fingers. “Jesus, you’re fucking incredible,” Pat says, and leans in to kiss him for the first time. It’s strangely chaste, a contrast to what they’ve just done. It’s perfect.

Moments later, after they’ve taken some time to breathe into each other, cleaned themselves up a bit and prayed that no one in the living room would tease them too much, Brian can’t help the slight wave of anxiety that overcomes him. “Did you… mean it? Earlier? What you said about, uh, rejecting me?”

Pat looks confused for a moment, then alarmed as he processes what Brian has just said. He runs his hand through his hair aggressively before saying, “Christ, Brian, _no_. I’m--I’m fucking _gone_ on you, have been for fucking ever. I would like to, like, take you out. Like, on dates. And stuff. I just, uh. Guess I maybe like being an asshole a little too much.”

“Oh,” Brian says, then, “Good.” He smiles, a little more coyly than before. “‘Cause I wanna go on dates too, and I also like you being an asshole a little too much.” Before Pat has any time to react, Brian leans up, kisses him on the cheek, and bounds out the door, not caring that he obviously looks like he just got fucked into oblivion, and that everyone still at the party will immediately assume as much. Maybe he’ll spill a drink on Pat or something in a bit--do something to _really_ deserve the bruises he’s determined to get later, once everyone’s gone and he’s convinced Laura and Jonah to find somewhere else to stay for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> if u liked this u should go follow my tumblr @ hehimlesbianpatgill just saying jsyk


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